


His Son's Voice

by Desceeee



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Critique of all kinds welcome, Gen, Manipulation, Tragedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 15:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desceeee/pseuds/Desceeee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the genocide run, why doesn't Asgore absorb the human SOULs like Undyne said he would?</p>
            </blockquote>





	His Son's Voice

The sun’s rays pierced into the room from the cracks above, illuminating the golden flowerbed beneath his feet, to the point where the flowers, too, seemed to be glowing. Though, currently, he was alone, the sounds of life could be heard from the outside world, buzzing and whistling, ruffling and flapping, chirping and humming.

It must have been a beautiful day outside.

This place was his, admittedly not-so-secret, retreat, whenever he felt his memories overwhelm him, he could come back here and tend to the flowers. A calming, manual task that did not require much thought. His kingdom was, generally, a peaceful place, and he knew that while anyone was welcome to come in and talk to him here at any time, they rarely did, leaving him plenty of time to himself.

In a way, taking care of these flowers was his way to atone for his sins. Perhaps it was pointless, trying to atone when he could not even find the courage within him to change his ways. But it was a small comfort to think that while he could never be forgiven for what he did to those humans, at least he will find a way to make it up for his own kids; Them, who, even after all their time down here, loved these flowers and missed them, and Him, who slept here, eternal.

Asgore carefully tiptoed between the flower patches, in a manner which probably would have looked comical due to his size, were it not for his experience doing just that. Gracefully weaving between the flowers, great and small alike, taking care to let just the right amount of water trickle down from the trunk of his watering can into each one. He would let no flower go trampled or drowned or dehydrated.

Suddenly, a voice, soft and sweet and painfully familiar, sounded out, making every hair on his body stand.

“Papa...”

Asgore dropped the watering can, and frantically looked around at all directions, trying to identify the source. He must have been imagining things. It could not possible.

“Papa!"

The voice was louder this time. Asgore quickly turned towards one of the flower beds, where the sound must have came from, and slowly kneeled down, carefully spreading the flowers apart from each other.

A thought crossed his head; _This is madness_. He was not going to find Asriel there. Asriel has been dead for over a century.

“Papa... Where am I...?”

The voice broke in the middle of the sentence, coming out as a weak whine. Asgore quickly turned towards the new source of the voice, which appeared to be in yet another flowerbed. He dug his claws into the earth and started overturning dirt.

“Papa... It’s so cold here...“

“Asriel...” muttered Asgore under his breath, “Where... where are you...?”

He was at yet another flowerbed now, up to his elbows in the dirt, searching every inch. He could leave no flower unturned, not if there was even the slightest chance that...

“It’s so dark...”

Asgore was practically ripping the flowerbeds apart by now.

 “Papa... I’m so alone...”

His fur, now matted with dirt and sweat, clung to his skin. There were few times in his life when he felt more exhausted and anxious than he did now. But he had to tread on.

“Papa... I’m so afraid...”

“Asriel...” Asgore found himself crying out. “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry” his voice grew weaker with every word.

“Asgore! Asgore!” Another voice called out from the hallway just outside the throne room, followed by the sound of frantic, bare feet slapping on the hard ground. Asgore froze and stared at the direction of the voice, despondent. “You haven’t been answering your calls! There’s a Human about, Undyne just...!”

Asgore found himself staring at Alphys as she stood at the room entrance. Alphys stood open mouthed, a word she could not bring herself to vocalise hanging off her tongue. She silently scanned him toe to head with her eyes.

Asgore was kneeling, his chest heaving, surrounded by disturbed dirt and destroyed flowers. His entire regalia, usually pristine, was now sullied with mud and plant matter, his fur matted and dirty.

However, by far the most alarming aspect of his appearance was the look in his eyes; Even as he was facing her, Asgore’s gaze laid not with her, but past her, his eyes empty and his face devoid of feeling of any sort.

It took a moment for Asgore to return to his senses. He quickly stood back up, trying his best to shake off his dizziness.

“Alphys! Howdy! I didn’t see you there. Please forgive me for this... uhm...” Asgore scrambled to try to piece together whatever was left of his dignity. “Oh, where are my manners.  May I offer you a cup of tea? Perhaps we can discuss this matter over a cup of tea?” The words got quicker with every sentence.

“It’s okay, Asgore. You... uhh... don’t need to worry about this! I’ll... I’ll get this under control... It’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be fine...” It was of little comfort that Alphys was just as embarrassed at this situation as he was. “I’ll just... I’ll just do my job as a royal scientist now.”

Before he could protest, Alphys turned and ran the other direction, leaving him to himself once again, amongst the destroyed flowers.

 

* * *

 

Alphys found herself slumping to the ground as soon as the elevator’s doors pulled in, holding her head. This day was getting worse with every passing moment. First, with the Human showing up, and then with Papyrus and Undyne...

That very thought made her feel nauseous with anxiety.

What was she going to do? With Undyne... gone, Asgore being in no position to fight or absorb any souls, there was no one who could protect the kingdom.  But she had to tread on.

What would Undyne think of her if she saw her like this?

Alphys hastily took out a pencil and some sheets of paper.

She’ll handle this herself, if she had to. She’ll do her job as a royal scientist, like she told Asgore she would.

 

* * *

 

The hardest part of manipulating that old fool he once called his father was stifling his own giggles as he popped in and out of the ground.

The rest was easy; all he had to do is channel his old self. That pathetic idiot was already on the verge of falling apart as is, a little nudge and the threat he posed to Chara would be eliminated.

Nothing would stand in their way. Together, they’ll finish what they tried to do last time.

They’re finally going to win this game.

**Author's Note:**

> Heya! I guess this is kinda short, sorry. I'm kind of new to writing, so I decided to test the waters by writing this one shot. Constructive criticism of any sort is more than welcome. Actually, non constructive criticism is also welcome, It's my job as a writer to figure out a way to derive something constructive out of it.
> 
> What do you think? Is it comical? Is it too brief? Is it horribly melodramatic? 
> 
> Is it anywhere in the same ballpark as 'good'?
> 
> Please tell me.
> 
> Or... don't, that's fine too. Not optimal, but fine.


End file.
